


Nutty

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, Gen, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a foolhardy, brash squirrel, Jim makes his friends worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nutty

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The metal death trap down at the bottom of the tree rattles, and Leonard’s heart clenches in his chest, his teeth gritting together. His tail flicks in irritation, and he has to hold back the urge to shout down how _stupid_ that was, running off so recklessly to examine another human bundle of never-good surprises, but of course James Tiberius Kirk never gives two fucks about caution, and now he’s down there rattling his cage. 

And Leonard’s up here, leaning precariously over the edge of a branch to keep the metal cube in view, while Spock has the nerve to say, “There is nothing we could have done.”

Leonard looks over, _furious_ , because they absolutely could’ve done something; they could’ve pinned Jim down and refused to let him anywhere near that... that... thing. With a scowl, Leonard hisses, “Good God, Spock! We can’t just leave him in there!” Because even though Leonard’s loathe to go anywhere near it himself, _they can’t just leave Jim in there._

Spock has the nerve to look at him with a deceptively level gaze, bushy tail flat along the branch and paws casually turning a chestnut around. How anyone could have the stomach to eat at a time like this is beyond Leonard, but he tries to hold himself back from snapping because he _knows_ Spock cares. Spock’s just from one of those bizarre families that likes to do things logically, even though everyone else knows Sarek’s loony as a chipmunk. Philosophy doesn’t fill your cheeks or keep you warm in the winter. 

“I admit that Jim’s... ‘bravery,’ as he calls it... was severely misplaced. But if we are also caught, it will do nothing to help matters.” 

Leonard knows that’s true, of course, but he still doesn’t _like_ it. He lifts his beady eyes to the nearest grouping of humans, currently the only two in the park. Two females, if Leonard’s senses have any value with other species, one with dark brown skin and long, sleek black hair on the top of her head, and some strange red wrapping all around her middle. The other one is deathly pale with yellow fur on her head and blue wrapping. They’re lounging in the grass on a large patch of not-grass and eating things off each other’s hands, some of their food nearly as big as Leonard’s whole body. As old as he is, Leonard still doesn’t understand humans. Not in the slightest.

But he knows they’re dangerous enough to prevent a rescue attempt. He and Spock tensely watch as the humans go about their business, until _finally_ , somewhere near sundown, they get up on their gangly legs. How they balance without tails, Leonard has no idea, but he doesn’t waste much time pondering it—non-squirrel anatomy has no use to him. It’s Jim’s anatomy he should be worried about; for all he knows, Jim could be dying in there. After all, while an unusual swarm of alien voles—nasty creatures—have exploded in the park lately, individuals are also prone to mysterious disappearances. They should’ve put the connection together sooner. Of course the humans would be responsible, with their crazy traps littering this beautiful, otherwise-peaceful park...

As soon as the humans are far enough away, Spock goes bolting past Leonard, scrambling down the tree so fast that Bones almost totters off his perch. Grumbling to himself, he hurries to catch up, scurrying down with his claws digging extra-hard into the bark. He’s thankful when he sees Spock, already at the bottom, twitching an eager tail and particularly-pointed ears; Jim must be alive. 

At the bottom, Leonard finds Jim and Spock nuzzling through the thin bars, Jim seemingly unharmed. Sidling up to them, Leonard still snaps, “I told you not to go exploring strange things!”

“I’m fine, Bones,” Jim just chuckles affectionately, the nickname making his eyes light. He reaches a paw out for Leonard, though it can’t fit all the way, and Leonard doesn’t reciprocate. He settles for scowling. Not seeming to mind, Jim assures them both, “I’ll find a way out.”

“Do not do anything rash,” Spock warns, though of course Jim will; always does. 

Jim just puts a paw up, and Spock, obviously softer than he’d like to think, presses his own into it. It’s an irksome scene, too much like a goodbye for Leonard’s taste, and he looks away, only to spot the two humans from earlier strolling back towards them. Even though he knows they’re capable of much greater speeds, their enormous legs carry them across frightening distances. Following Leonard’s gaze, Jim says quickly, “You have to go. I’ll be alright. I promise.” 

Leonard doesn’t want to go. But he doesn’t need Spock to tell him they have no choice. He begrudgingly reaches a paw out to Jim’s, completing their little group, the nods and pulls away. He and Spock race back up the roots off the tree, safely on their high-up branch in a heartbeat. 

And they watch, helplessly, while the humans stop by the trap. The brown-red one kneels down to it, while the peach-blue one waits behind. For a moment, Leonard considers leaping from the trees, attacking the humans until they flee for their lives, but Spock murmurs beside him, “They will not hurt him.” It’s strangely confident, but Bones still can’t help but worry. “If they wanted the device to kill, it would do so, not simply confine its victims.” Leonard flicks his tail in agreement, but of course, if Jim is taken away, it will still be incredibly painful. From the way Spock’s paws grip the branch below, Leonard gets the distinct impression that if the humans do take Jim away, Spock will follow. And Leonard, of course, would have to be right behind. 

But the human, nattering with her friend in their slow, low-pitched voices, doesn’t lift the cage. Instead, the individual joints of her furless claws play a strange dance across the top of the device, and one of the sides jerks open. 

Jim goes shooting out, straight ahead, while the human resets the trap and stands up, heading back to her friend. The two stroll out of the park, and Jim, realizing belatedly that there is no danger, does a wide arc back to the tree. 

Leonard and Spock are already darting down, hitting the grass and crossing it in great leaps, and they run into Jim so hard that the three of them nearly knock each other over. Jim’s arms and tail are out in a heartbeat, wrapping around them, while Leonard clings back and tries to pretend that his heart isn’t racing wildly, his head overwhelmed with relief. 

As they disentangle from one another, Spock comments, “I believe the device was meant for the new voles, and not, fortunately, the native squirrels of this region.”

“In other words,” Jim chirps cheerily, “I’m free!”

And Leonard groans, because he can’t miss the opportunity to tease, even though he’s positive Jim knows that Leonard loves him. Jim pauses a moment to take in his two friends, then bursts between them, scurrying right back up the tree, calling into the wind, “Race you to the top!”

Leonard and Spock spare each other exasperated looks, but they follow all the same, just like they would’ve followed Jim halfway across the world if they had to, but the top of the tree is a pleasant compromise.


End file.
